


A Curse on Both Your Houses: A Horrendously Sad and Gay Retelling of Scooby Doo

by spacemarin



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Friendship, I'm so sorry Fred, Scooby Doo - Freeform, Written on a Dare, minor mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18709930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemarin/pseuds/spacemarin
Summary: Shaggy is right she decides. They’re definitely cursed.





	A Curse on Both Your Houses: A Horrendously Sad and Gay Retelling of Scooby Doo

“It’s just that I think I’m cursed,” Shaggy picks up another cheese fry and inhales it like the last one. 

“Like a man goes his whole life trying to be good, like eating his own sandwiches, avoiding all things creepy, and like somehow I’m always on the worse end of some spooky happening.” He takes another cheese fry and gestures with it to bolster his point. Daphne stares down into the wine glass she’s holding. She actually does think maybe Shaggy has a point, but at the moment she’s having trouble concentrating. “Maybe we’re all cursed. Like you can’t say the shit we run into all the time is normal.” 

“Shaggy, when have any of us ever been normal?” Daphne laughs taking a cheese fry of her own. Cheese fries really doesn’t pair well with wine. Shaggy lies out across the couch so his feet are in her lap, and she absentmindedly drums her finger on the bottom of his old sneakers. “Oh, you’re normal Daph. Like getting a real person job, a house with a lawn, Fred…” Shaggy smiles up at her. 

Daphne freezes, “Trust me, nothing in my life is normal.” She chugs the rest of her wine, “What time is it?” 

“Almost eleven... Zoinks!” Shaggy rises from the couch taking the plate of cheese fries with him. “Sorry Daph, I told Velma I’d take her waffle maker back to her tonight.”

“Why do you have Velma’s waffle maker?”

“Well like, it’s sort of a long story. See me and Scoob wanted to make this ultra-deluxe-super-mega-awes–”

“Yeah, yeah I get the picture.” Daphne rises from the couch herself and places the wine glass on the table. “If you want I can take it for you.” 

“You sure?” Shaggy stops walking towards the door. 

“Yeah, she’s just down the road, and I know you have a long drive back.” Shaggy beams and wraps her in a hug, “Like, you’re the best Daph! Let me go get it out of the van.” Shaggy sprints out the door with speed that can only be acquired from years of running away from things and returns moments later with a light blue, slightly abused looking waffle maker. Shaggy wraps the cord around the handle before handing it to her, “You sure you’re cool with this? Like won’t Fred worry about you when he gets home?” 

Daphne freezes again, her hands tighten around the waffle iron, “Don’t worry about Fred. Or me. It’s all fine.”

Shaggy smiles again and drops a kiss on her cheek, “You’re the best Daph. Have a good night!” 

“Love you Shaggs. Hope your ride home is completely spooky happening free.” 

“You and me both,” Shaggy adds with a final laugh before skipping down the steps back towards the van. Daphne watches him drive off before closing the front door behind her and starting off down the road. 

Daphne and Fred bought a house in this neighbourhood because–as Shaggy had suggested–it felt distinctly normal: white picket fences, family barbeques, the whole nine yards. However, their effort had proven fruitless when less than a week after moving in their neighbor on the right spoke of a haunted garden. Nothing the mystery solving dream team couldn’t fix. Velma had luckily gotten an apartment just down the road soon after that incident (Shaggy and Scooby opting to stay where they are in order to be closer to their favourite pizza place). It made going over to see Velma significantly easier; that was something she had been doing a lot of recently. 

She knocks on the door of apartment thirteen, waffle iron still in hand. Daphne has a key to Velma’s apartment, but her parents had taught her it was always polite to knock no matter the circumstances. Velma opens the door a moment later. She must have come from the shower, her hair is still damp, and it drips down onto her oversized, orange shirt. She also isn’t wearing any glasses. “Daph! I’d hug you, but I don’t want to soak you. Come in.” Daphne follows her into the impeccably organised kitchen. “What brings you here so late?” Velma turns around to face her and leans against the counter.

“Shaggy told me he borrowed this from you,” Daphne waves the waffle iron before placing it on the counter next to Velma. 

Velma smiles, “I almost forgot. Did he say what they used it for.”

“I don’t think we want to know.” 

“You’re right,” Velma giggles. Daphne looks at Velma a moment then goes to lean against the counter next to her. “Velma, can I talk to you.” 

“Of course, what’s up,” Velma raises an eyebrow.

“Do you think we’re cursed?”

Velma double takes, “I’m sorry?”

“Sorry, it’s just something Shaggy brought up, and now he’s got me wondering.” 

Velma laughs, “Daph, I can guarantee you’re not cursed. You’re much too good of a person for that.” Daphne isn’t sure exactly what makes her do it, but suddenly she’s leaning forward and pressing her lips against Velma’s. For one glorious moment everything is magic. She’s not thinking about Fred, waffle irons, or how they may or may not be cursed. All she can think about is Velma. Velma, Velma, Velma. That is until Velma pushes her away quickly. “Daphne what are you doing?”

“I thought it was obvious.” 

Velma frowns at her, “I mean why are you doing this?” 

Daphne steps closer to her, “Again, I think it’s obvious: I wanted to.” 

Velma starts shaking her head, “Daphne, have you been drinking?”

“Not enough apparently,” Daphne says with a hollow laugh. 

Velma glares at her, “What about Fred?”

“What about him?” 

“Don’t you care what he’ll think about this.”

Daphne scoffs, “I don’t care what that asshole thinks.” 

“Daphne you’re drunk, and you don’t know what you’re saying,” Velma says her voice rising. She pushes her hair out of her eyes. 

“Don’t I! Does this look like I’m joking!?” She pulls off the scarf around her neck to show Velma the dark bruising. “I know what I’m talking about Velma, and I know what I want.”

Velma eyes widen with shock as she stares from Daphne’s neck to her face and back again, “Was that…?”

“Him. Yes.” 

Velma lets out a sigh and steps back closer to her, “Daphne I’m so sorry.” Daphne doesn’t say anything in response just stares down at the black and white checked tile on the floor. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sor–” Before she can finish she’s cut off by Velma passionately kissing her. They break for a moment to breath. “You don’t deserve that Daphne,” Velma whispers, and for once, Daphne actually believes it. 

Daphne feels herself being slowly backed down a hallway that she knows leads to Velma’s bedroom. Velma’s gentle hand rests on her back and the other in her hair. Their lips never leaving each other’s. Velma gently pushes her onto the bed as her soft, still slightly damp hair tickles Daphne’s shoulders. Velma’s hands intertwined with her own as she peppers Daphne’s neck with soft kisses. “Do you mind if I...?” Velma asks pulling as the hem of Daphne’s dress. Daphne nods, “Yes, please. Anything you want.” Velma pulls Daphne’s dress off in a fluid motion and stares at her for a long moment that makes Daphne blush. 

Daphne reaches for Velma’s t-shirt, “Come on, only fair.” Velma sits back to remove her own shirt, and Daphne doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone more beautiful. “Are you okay with this?” Velma asks as she carefully places herself in Daphne’s lap. “Please,” Daphne says back breathless. Their bare skin presses up against each other, and Daphne flushes. Velma drags a hand down her body, and she shivers. Daphne rocks into Velma’s touch warm and feeling her whole body tingle. 

They breath there a moment. Daphne takes a deep breath, “I can’t–can I stay over here tonight?”  
Velma looks tired, “Yeah.” Daphne considers it a moment then lays her head on Velma’s shoulder. Shaggy is right she decides. They’re definitely cursed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this fic was written with equal seriousness and silliness on a dare. Thank Joe for that.  
> Please forgive me for any grammar mistakes.  
> xx


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